


Don't Follow Me

by Pnanda92



Category: Being Human (UK), The Almighty Johnsons
Genre: Character Death, Feels, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-22
Updated: 2013-12-22
Packaged: 2018-01-05 13:02:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,350
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1094162
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pnanda92/pseuds/Pnanda92
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Character Death. Fair warning. Anders gets hauled into Mitchell's troubles and bad stuff happens. Sorry for the horrid summary, but this kinda fic makes it hard for a summary.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Don't Follow Me

**Author's Note:**

> So I wrote this aaaaages ago when the s3 finale happened. I was in China and needed a way to deal with the feels I had for thing so I wrote this up. It was my way to dealing with everything. :P Also the c-bomb is dropped in this fic, just in case
> 
> Not very good so you have been warned now, but if you like it, leave some love eh? if not, all is good. :)
> 
> Enjoy?

The week started out well; work was finally getting back into the business game with the help of Dawn working her ass off like she normally, with no thanks to Ty coming in every now and then to distract her and whisk her off her feet.

Hell, even Anders was working his ass off, making sure there were plenty of new clients available and organised enough meetings to suffice for a full year, as well as business deals with other PR companies. He started to think how he even needed Bragi, it was just pure skill and his own charisma that sealed the deals.

With all this new business and trying to organise new public deals for his clients, it just mean there were longer nights at parties, dinners, meetings and in the office along with earlier mornings with stronger coffee. 

Mitchell didn’t mind in the beginning, picking up more late night shifts from work which was good money wise. But at the end of every night, they would collapse into bed, sometimes with dinner and sometimes without, and just cuddle until they fell asleep around the other which was within second of their heads touching the pillow. But the weeks grew more and more without a lot between them.   
Weekends were their only time together, which didn’t give them a lot of time together as sometimes Mitchell was called in or Anders would be busy with work things like meetings or typing away at his Mac. Then there were a few nights where they really just did nothing besides spend all day in bed, touching, kissing and then the sex… Jesus, waiting that long really made the wait worth it. Anders wouldn’t be able to move the next morning without the soft prodding from his other half to get out of bed and do some work.

Dawn understood far too much when Anders came into work a little later than usual, limping and looking like he had no sleep the night before so there was a strong coffee waiting for him on his table every Monday morning.

But Mitchell wanted more every now and then, becoming a little jealous of all the social interaction Anders was having with his new human life, still being one of the most popular PR companies in all of Auckland. He wanted to come along and see how his lover handled himself in public in a professional manner, see how he used his own words to hook people as well as using his charm that he fell for hard. But it was getting harder and harder to keep up with Anders lately; the man getting too focused on his work. He wanted Anders to understand that it was healthy taking time out every now and then, even though it was quite a busy time of the year for PR companies, trying to sign up new talent or bring life back to old talent.

That’s what caused the fight. There was yelling and swearing, both teams throwing their points of views at the other, throwing insults to wound the other and just letting everything fall onto the table of their lives.

Then Anders went too far, loosing himself in the emotion, “What the fuck possessed me to go up to you for that lighter when we first met because Jesus, if I had of known you were going to be all PMS-sy about this, I wouldn’t have!”

Mitchell snapped, snarling, a gloved hand surging through his hair and pushed Anders against the door, eyes turning black and growled low, baring his fangs against his throat as a warning, “You fucking cunt. Take that back.”

Anders stilled, heart accelerating twin fold before pushing him off, storming into the kitchen to grab at his wallet and keys, leaving his phone on the bench and shrugged on his suit jacket, “I’ll come back when I’m ready to deal with you.”

Huffing loud, he opened the door and walked out, not slamming the door behind him because he was better than that, just letting it stay open, letting Mitchell watch the suited man disappear down the stairs. 

Quickly, the vampire calmed down, eyes returning to their deep brown form and fangs receded back. He took a step forward, leaning his head against the door and pushed it close softly, biting his lip hard as the lock slipped into the groove on the door frame.

“Fuck...” He gritted out, pounding the side of his gloved fist against the door.

\--

Anders headed to a regular bar where the bartender to calm down, finding the loud music from the club next door a good means to drown out the latest events. With a few beers and a couple of shots of vodka later, he ventured over to the club, needing to have a night to let loose. 

He danced for a while, grinding against hard bodies and letting go but soon found himself growing bored of the club, not finding it as he hoped. He sat down at the bar in the club, Mitchell’s words throbbed in his head, about ‘needing some time for yourself and not working” and “spend some time with me and not your Mac.”

He didn’t mean to focus on his work 100% of the time, but he wasn’t always working through the day; he has been planning a 3 week getaway to Ireland for the holidays so Mitchell and himself could take some time out for themselves and enjoy relaxing for a while, a word that seemed foreign to him. Dawn had yelled at him a few times when she clued on to him slacking off and researching places in Dublin to stay at, making him groan and comment about work ethics and get back to work typing up something pointless again.

Running his hand through his slightly sweaty hair, he ordered a cold water as he realised that he has been a complete dick to his partner without knowing it. He was a dick in every part of his life, but he was trying a lot harder lately to be less of a dick since becoming human and taking their relationship seriously, like normal people would.

Standing up, downing the water fast, he turned on his heel, leaving a tip for the bartender and began to dodge, worming his way through the dancing crowd of drunk bodies towards the toilet. After relieving himself, checking out the guy next to him, he exited the toilets fast, deciding to go home and try and talk it out with Mitchell. He knew he was in the wrong now.

But was stopped after taking a foot out from the bathroom, being dragged towards the backdoor exit by a rather tall, thin man. Anders quickly acted, twisting his wrist out from the assailants grip and turned, jogging with a bounce in his step to run back inside but two other men stood in the way.

“You Anders?” One asked from the door, the broad Kiwi asked.

“I’m Ty actually, Anders is-” He starts, holding his hands up but was tackled against the brick wall behind him. One of the burly men pinning his core against the wall with a firm fist into his gut.  
He gasped, heaving in big breaths and groans loudly as his head is ripped to the side, exposing his neck, showing off the two small bite marks that Mitchell left on him a few days ago.  
“Yep, it’s him. I can smell that fairy leprechaun on him.” Called the grunt, talking to the man behind him.

Slapping the arm away from him, Anders kneed the guy right between his legs, grabbing hold of the man’s bald head and collided his nose with his knee, making another break for it.  
But again his plans to escape was quickly stopped, the taller man grabbing his wrist like he did before and yanked him back, punching him straight in the jaw and let go of Anders’ wrist. The tall man watched the blonde man stumble back, whipping his hand out to steady himself at the wall next to him.

“The fuck?” He squeaked out, licking his lip to taste blood.

“You’re Mitchell’s fuck toy, yeah?” The taller man asked, snapping his fingers at the other grunt still standing at the door who took only a few long strides over and grabbed Anders, locking his arms under Anders’ armpits and threw him against the wall again, his head colliding with the hard surface, splitting skin.

The grunt quickly yanked the dazed man around, back hitting the wall hard and pinned him there, placing Anders’ arms in front of him, squeezing his wrists hard.

“You still a God?” 

The grunt sniffed at his neck, huffing low and shook his head, “Not anymore boss.”

“Wha- what do you want?” Anders weakly asked, blinking hard as blood ran from the gash on his head.

“Just wanted to send a message to your little boyfriend, but considering you’re not the topic of the message anymore, maybe we can have some fun…” 

The taller man stood close, pushing the grunt off, telling him to stand guard before tying his wrists together, holding him by the shoulders and leaned into Anders’ neck, licking at the small healing marks on his tight neck, one of his hands disappearing behind the black jacket that looked too big for the taller man’s frame.

Quickly thinking, Anders grunted and threw his foot down onto the dangerous man, stomping hard on his toes. Crying loudly with a curse, Anders took his chance to sprint out of there but once again, is stopped by the grunt catching him and punching straight into his ribs, knowing that some were broken or fractured now. 

Falling to his knees, he groans from the pain, bracketing his elbows around his ribs, panting with deep gasps.

“You little shit. Hold him up, I want to see his face.”

The thick body guard hauls Anders up by his hair, feet reacting quickly to push himself up to stand tall as the man clasps his hands around Anders’ wrist, winding an arm around his ribs to hold him in place and to hurt him.

The taller man stalked over slow, pulling out a sharp blade and rolled it over his fingers with precision and practise. With a quick flip, he grabs the handle and held it close to Anders neck, the human raising his chin up.

The man chuckled low, running the tip of the blade down Anders’ chest, ripping his shirt a little here and there before stopping just at his lower abdomen, teasing his belly button  
Taking one more step forward, muttering to his body guard ‘hold his head’, he showed the scared blue eyes of the man in front of him the long white fangs extending from his lips.

One hand clasped back into the short blonde hair, tugging tight as the fangs sunk into his neck, exactly in the place where Mitchell had bitten him and slices the blade long ways across Anders’ lower stomach, stabbing him hard while drinking from him.

Anders flinches, trying to shake the body off of him, pulling at his wrists… anything to stop the pain. His brain is going crazy, nerves set alight like someone was holding a lighter to his nerve endings.  
The man grunts at his neck, moving back to spit his blood on the ground, “fucking disgusting.” Wiping the blood from over his mouth, he tells the guard to let him go, retracting the knife and takes his keys and wallet, taking a step back to watch the weak body fall back onto his knees with a loud cry, “Just tell your mate, if you make it home, that we want to make a deal with him. Hell, we might as well go deliver the message to him... don’t think you’ll make it now.” He laughs, twirling Anders’ car keys around a long finger and collects the second bodyguard on the ground, all three making their way out of the alley.

“Mitchell…”

\--

Mitchell juggled shopping bags into one hand, digging his keys out of his front pocket and places the key into the door, bottles clanging softly against the other as he turned it.   
It had only been a few hours since the fight and he decided to get wasted, knowing that Anders wouldn’t be back for a while, perhaps even gone for the next few days. 

Pushing the door open, he took one step and faulted, clasping at his stomach like he had just been punched, holding himself up against the door frame. His body felt strange, like something was wrong. The pain intensified but throbbed at his neck, his brain telling his fang to extend to protect himself, but there was no danger.

Forcing himself inside the apartment, he leaned against the door, dropping the bottles of alcohol to the floor and concentrated on the pain, trying to figure out what was causing it. He groaned, placing a half gloved finger into his mouth, his other hand grasping at his neck. Then just as soon as it started, it passed, the pain disappearing.

“The fuck was that?” He panted softly to himself, looking over his body, lifting up his plain red shirt to check his stomach. Nothing, there was no mark or swelling there. He placed his hand to his neck and checked… nothing there too.

With a quick grab at the shopping bags, he turned the corner and placed the bottles on the bench and stood there, confused. Collecting his hair from his eyes, he stood up and opened one of the drawers, taking the fish food container from it and fed the fish. No matter how much he could hate Anders, he knew that if those fish died…so did their relationship. Sometimes he thought Anders loved those fish more than him.

Sprinkling the pink and orange flakes into the tank, a few quick knocks at the floor interrupted him.

One name ran through his mind as he stood up, looking towards the door, placing the container on the bench and rounded the corner, but slowed down when the door opened and 3 men stood there. A scrawny tall man with two goons behind him.

“Nicolas… what are-” He stopped mid-sentence, inhaling hard through his nose, picking up the familiar scent of Anders blood on his body and bared his fangs, “Where’s Anders?”

“Dead about now. We told you we would send you a respectful message.” He snarled, fangs dropping too.

Mitchell took a step towards the door, then with a rough kick, his boot slammed into the man’s stomach, making him fall back against his body guards and slammed the door closed, ripping the keys from it and made a dash into the kitchen again. Searching drawers quickly, he found the stake he kept there just in case and heard the front door smack against the wall behind it, the man storming in and hissing at Mitchell, “Stay there boys. He’s aaalll mine tonight.”

Pocketing the stake fast in his back pocket, Mitchell ran at him, tackling him against the wall, one of Anders’ frames dropping onto his head and shattering.

They both struggled against the other, Mitchell copping a knee to the nuts and a closed fist under his jaw, but soon found the upper hand and pulled away, tripping the man as he surged towards him, rolling them and quickly straddled him, forcing the stake through the vampire’s chest. The man groaned loud, body soon turning to ash.

Falling backwards, panting hard, Mitchell shoot a look at the guards standing at the door, eyes sliding into black darkness, standing up.

“Tell Harrison it’s another no.” He utters low and smooth, bending over to take the stake form the pile of ash and points it straight over to them.

With a swallow and a nod, the guards turn and vanish quickly behind the slammed door in their faces. 

\---

Time seems to last longer than usual, streets a little different than he could remember. Dragging and lifting each foot to take another step, he forced himself to watch his feet, making sure he sees his left then right then left…

Clutching at his stomach and his ribs, he struggles to breath, feeling that his body wasn’t getting enough air. 

So focused on the left, right, left, right, he misses the couple waking towards him, accidentally bumping into him. He bites down on his inner cheek, stumbling over to a broken lamp post and rests against it, tears welling up in the corner of his eyes.

He is losing blood everywhere; neck, head, stomach. Why don’t they help him? It’s so dark that he forgives them. He lifts his hand off his stomach, noticing the once white shirt now dirty dark red and looks up fast, holding back the urge to hurl and clamps his hands back onto it. He feels like he has been walking for hours. With a wounded shudder, he begins to remove his jacket from his worn and torn body, hissing between his teeth, trying to gingerly take it off but there is no easy way about it. 

Once off, he pushes it against his stomach and runs a hand through his hair, painting it light red over the side and continues walking, seeing the light from the lobby of his apartment. 

_So close…_

He keeps up the left right left right, moaning as his body twists to step out of the way of another passer-by and walks up the stairs. There’s only 4 of them but Jesus, he feels like he is climbing Mt. Ruapehu.

With another stumble, he throws a hand out onto the glass door, smearing a red hand print and grasps at the key pad, trying to remember his code to get in but all he can think about his the pulsating pain from his body, blurring his ability to remember it.

“Fff…” He starts, his voice weak, but is able to press the keys to his apartment, calling it, hoping Mitchell was there… still alive.

\---

The speaker buzzes as he sweeps up the rest of the ash, rolling his eyes and walks towards it, hitting a button, “What? It’s like 2 in the morning, what is it?”

“…Mitchell?”

He could smell the fresh blood wafting from somewhere and he is quickly running down the stairs, not bothering to take the elevator, knowing his legs could get him downstairs faster.

He rounds the corner fast, stopping fast as he stares down the corridor, seeing the man on the other side of the door. They both smile at each other weakly.

Relief floods Anders’ mind until he whimpers, not able to support his own weight anymore and falls to his knees, smearing blood down the door, yelling in pain.

Mitchell sprints towards the door, pressing the button to open the door, nearly ripping the door off its hinges and hovers his hands over Anders’ slumped body, not sure where to touch. The scent of human blood floods his senses but pushes them aside, collecting the injured man in his arms and lifts him up, worrying about the blood later.

Taking the elevator up this time, he makes sure to keep Anders conscious, asking him small things like “what’s the last thing you remember?” “What’s the date today?” “Do you know who I am?’

“I know you’re alive and I’m leaking.”

Finally, after what felt like hours instead of seconds, he mentally cursed Anders for choosing to live on one of the top floors and walked carefully into the apartment, door still open and kicks it closed, heading into the bedroom and gently places his partner onto the bed.

He can smell the life leaving him. Quickly leaving him alone, he phones Michelle, and tells her the details, grabbing the emergency med kit in the bathroom. She explains that she can’t leave, her being at work at the moment, but talks him through what he needs to do to stop the bleeding and stabilize it.

With a short thanks, he hangs up on her and calls the ambulance, giving the address and details quickly without really knowing them and waits for the van to come help him. Growing frustrated with the time slipping away, he stomps into the bedroom and takes out the surgical items, breaking their seals getting to work. Flipping on the light in their bedroom, he sits next to his partner and threads the needle easily, holding it between his teeth as he moves his hands over to the blood stained jacket pressed into Anders’ stomach.

“I have to see it luv, it’ll hurt but I can’t help that,” he coos through clenched teeth and removes the heavy cold hands from the jacket, placing them onto the bed and takes the jacket off slowly, seeing the deep gash and possible intestines.

“Oh Jesus...Anders, I’m so sorry...” He utters, breath shaky as tears form, the needle dropping from his lips and looks over, catching Anders’ stare at him.

With as much strength he can muster up, Anders lifts his hand up and places it onto Mitchell’s thigh, “It’s alright; doesn’t even hurt.”

“Don’t be stupid. This is…my…” He can’t even finish the sentence as Anders interrupts him.

“Don’t. We were both assholes; it’s ok. Seriously.” He smiles one of those genuine grins that only Mitchell gets to see every now and then, usually its after sex or when he is extremely cuddly and tired but seeing it just made the situation hurt so much more for Mitchell.

Mitchell started to smile back, eyes flickering over the wound on Anders’ head and the puncture wounds on his neck. Focusing on them, he moved his fingers close to it, feeling them.

“Fuck...Mitchell.” Anders groans, whining a little. He stares up at the man who is focusing on his neck and watches the curly haired man lean down and kiss over the wounds on his neck, pressing his tongue into the wounds and clenches his fingers around his thigh but soon stops as he feels the holes begin to close over.

“Thank you…” he says under his breath, feeling Mitchell move to his head and lick hard over the gash, the skin stretching and healing, then closes his eyes, just enjoying the small touches and kisses on his head.

“You know, I had nngghh… ugh, had organised a holiday for us n-next week. To Ireland. For you,” Anders gets out, breathing deeper and longer.

Mitchell perks up, hearing the ambulance in the distance getting closer and groans, “Way to ruin the surprise Anders” They both laugh softly, “I gotta open the downstairs door for the crew, I’ll be back in two seconds, ok? Just …” don’t die…

He leaves Anders’ side reluctantly, running down the stairs to place a brick at the open glass door, holding it ajar and runs back up to the front door, jogging back to their bedroom and sits back next to him, puffing a little but stops.

“Anders?” Panic sets in. I wasn’t gone for that long. Only a few minutes “Babe, come on.” He doesn’t hear breathing. Doesn’t see his chest moving. “You fucker, what did I say? Why don’t you ever listen to me?!”

He panics, what can he do? 

_They are taking too long!_ He thinks, standing up and runs his hands through his hair, noticing his gloves stained with his blood. He groans loud, scared and alone, pacing the room.

Then it hits him, the reality of the situation, eyes catching small movement across from him. He sees a mahogany door next to the window where they used to watch the rain fall together. 

“Mitch?” He turns to his name, seeing his suited lover behind him.

“No… nononono! Please no!” He crumbles, grasping at his lover but his hand passes straight through him.

“Calm down love. I told you it was ok, didn’t I?” He grins, scratching at the stubble on his cheek.

“Why didn’t you listen to me then?” Mitchell falls back onto the bed, tearing falling from his eyes.

“You know I never listen to you.” Anders laughs, leaving a long silence between them for minutes until Anders broke it, “I assume that’s for me, eh?”

Mitchell nods, his head in his hands. He feels Anders walk past him and perks up, following his movements towards the door and watches Anders hesitantly grasp at the handle, opening it a little to see the white light glisten out behind it. 

Mitchell stands and walks closer to the door, face blotchy red from the tears and emotions just flooding out of him, wanting to say something but Anders just shakes his head slow, smiling once more, “Don’t follow John,” then steps inside, closing the door behind him. It disappearing. Gone forever.

He was gone. 

“Anders..?” Mitchells utters, leaning his head against the wall where the door was and let out a choked sob.

He looked behind him, seeing the jacket on the bed and looked over the room, avoiding the lifeless body lying on the bed. 

“You fucking asshole…” He grits out, walking with heavy steps over to the empty space on the bed and sits back down, gazing over Anders’ body and leans forward, pulling open his beside drawer, grabbing the stake there. 

Lying down next to him, he threads their cold lifeless fingers together and sighs, closing his eyes and presses the tip of the stake to his chest. There was nothing in this life for him besides Anders and he wasn’t here anymore. Sure, Anders blood was coursing through his body but that wasn’t the same. He needed Anders more than blood. He was the reason why he didn’t need blood.

Breathing fast and panicked, he pauses before pushing the stake into his chest, scared of what could happen on the other side. He squeezes Anders’ dead hand and whimpers, tensing up and pushes the stake hard into himself, screaming loud.

It was done.

\---

“What did I say Mitchell?”

“I don’t listen to you either luv.”

He looks down, seeing their fingers tangled together.


End file.
